


Kissing the looking glass, closing your eyes

by santsii



Series: make it sweet, make it count [5]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dee doesnt know what to do with her shit, Dee reflecting, Disassociation, Dubious Consent, F/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santsii/pseuds/santsii
Summary: He really thinks he's that good. It's funny, the roles they talk themselves in and out of.





	Kissing the looking glass, closing your eyes

Dee watches documentaries, like the ones where something horrible enough to merit a documentary happens. 

 There's always some woman, and she's been abused by some man,  and she's angry and she feels angry. She's sad, god damn it she's _something_.

Then there's Dee,  whose had Dennis stuck to her side like a god damn soul sucking barnacle. The things he's done to her over the years have varied from mildly dubious to traumatizing at best, and for the life of her she can't feel it. 

 That's what makes Dee angry. She feels like whatever it was feelings should have been, she was cheated out of those like everything else, that or Dennis sucked them out of her in the womb. 

 Or maybe some time, years and lives ago, when he taught her how to use sex as currency, maybe he knew she didn't have them either. And being the _good_ benevolent brother, he had to give her something to use. Some way to navigate people who would always,  always leave. 

 When she was growing up she used to toy with the thought that maybe he was just teaching her how to get her own. God knows no one else would. 

It just happens to be part of the fucked up Reynolds package that meant he'd devour her in the process. Nothing personal. 

There were two worlds for Dee. In one world,  Dennis and Dee were twins who had fucked up parents and only eachother. No one was there to teach them about the birds and the bees, so they experimented. It's fine. Kids do that. It's normal. It's fine.

 In the other world,  Dennis doesn't really ask,  he just takes. She's pretty sure that even as kids,  'experimentation' means mutual consent,  and has doubts on how much consent a near brown out sixteen year old on prom night can give. 

But they kissed and did hand stuff before that. And Dennis has this way of making an idea he has become your idea. And then there's the whole he's her twin thing. 

As fucked up as it sounds,  the thing that made it so bad was also what made it okay. He's your twin, your other half, its essentially masturbation.

Most days she lives in the first world. It's easy, doesn't require much thought. Dennis will pull his whiny drama queen bullshit, and Dee will give just as good as she gets. The surface is still. Look,  cricket just came in to smoke PCP. You do you,  Cricks. All is as it should be. 

But sometimes, it's just her and Dennis closing the bar, and he brushes against her shoulder. Tiny pinpricks ghost her arms and her neck. Her chest constricts. She's fine. His eyes are blue and intense and- _what is it with his fucking eyes?_ She wants to make herself smaller. Just to take up less space, avoid his glare. 

She can feel it in him too. That's the worst part. Can feel his restraint like its suffocating her. And why should she feel that way? He should feel the need to restrain himself, the creepy fuck.  Why should she feel- god damn it- pity for him?

_She thinks it would be easier if she just liked it, just wanted it._

She takes a long pull from her beer,  and sets it down with a satisfying thump. 

Both Mac and Dennis jump from across the bar,  "Jesus Christ, Dee. Watch what your doing with your buffalo fingers." Mac says it and Dennis doesnt even really laugh when his face splits open into what he taught her was laughter- joy, the expense of others, not yourself. 

 

_but what is she if not an actress, albeit a fucking terrible one._

 

He's still eyeing her from his peripheral. Pretending to look at his phone. So obvious, he's practically seething with it.  Tells Mac they start their scheme tomorrow, and he needs him to go pick up what's on the list. Charlie's gone and Frank's gone. She knows what he's going to say before he says it. Knows the savage burn when he takes her and how her nails bite little crescent moons into his shoulders, every mark a reply to the question he never asked her. 

The part where if he had bothered to, she might have said yes isn't the point. Though she isn't sure if that thought is her own, or if Dennis noticed something he didn't like. _You wanted this you wanted this you wanted this we wanted this._

He really thinks he's that good. It's funny the roles they talk themselves in and out of. 

It doesn't really matter though. For all the things she thinks shes supposed to feel,  she doesn't feel a god damn thing. It should scare her. She doesn't feel that either. Dennis will always be there. Dee can't escape him,  and if given the chance, she wouldn't- ( _no.  that's not right,  that can't be right._ )

Some how she knows she would feel that loss, and then maybe wouldn't be able to stop. 

At that point she just might burn this motherfucker to the ground. In which case, she tells herself _maybe_ Dennis wasn't so far off. After all,  if she is him, he is her too god damn it. Her. _Hers_. 


End file.
